


Sleepwalking

by Inky_Pens



Category: Shadow and Bone (TV), The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Antler Kink, F/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28820784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inky_Pens/pseuds/Inky_Pens
Summary: The weight of the antlers is still heavy and new around Alina's neck.
Relationships: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova & Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov
Comments: 12
Kudos: 114





	Sleepwalking

**Author's Note:**

> If you came in for the angsty summary, sorry, but this train is a one-way to PURE SMUT NO PLOT.

Alina Starkov had an intimate relationship with power. As a possessor of the first of Morozova’s amplifiers, a pair of antlers fastened into a collar, almost caressing her throat, the rush was not unlike the way she felt when the Darkling pulled her into a darkened room with lascivious intent. In fact, the thrumming through her veins was almost the exact rhythm of his thigh working between her legs. She could swear she felt the pulse of it, strong and staccatoed, relentless, punishing, down her shoulders, dancing over her breasts, skimming her hips, beating frantically in her clit.

The way she chased that power lit up her bedroom, morning and night, or whenever she could find time alone. Her fingers worked furiously to that same maddening rhythm, but they only ever took the edge off. The Grisha had warned her that power was addictive. They never told her how overwhelming the need would be.

Later, when she would begin seeing visions of the Darkling in the corner of her bedroom, watching her as she touched herself, she thought the manifestation of her need was literally driving her crazy. The imagined Darkling would never speak, and he never moved out of the shadows, but she felt his hot and steady gaze while she circled two fingers inside of her. All the while, she gripped one side of the antlers in her other hand and pulled it taut against the nape of her neck. She squeezed it like a lifeline as she came every time, and when she let go of it, she would open her eyes to find her dreamy wisp of the Darkling had disappeared. 

Alina had considered telling the only friend she had at the Little Palace, but time had yet to tell if Genya Safin could be trusted. She reported directly to the Darkling. Would she tell him that the newly-minted Sun Summoner was seeing illusions of the leader of the Second Army? Alina certainly wouldn’t divulge what she was doing when he came to her. 

The last night she saw him in her room had also been the best time. 

No, the worst. 

Either way, it had been the last. 

She’d been restless that night. Exhausted from training with Baghra trying to expand her power beyond the perimeter of the palaces. It was always worse after a training day, like the crackling of a fire that could not be extinguished.

She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, splayed the fingers in her hair as she furiously scrubbed them over her scalp. She tried deep breathing. _In, one, two, three, out, one, two, three, four, five, six._ The air felt stifling in her room, though it was a cool evening on the cusp of Spring. 

“Am I dying?” she asked aloud. 

The only response was that of her antlers buzzing through her.

Alina turned over onto her stomach with a petulant hope that it would smother the ache that burned low in her belly. Her breasts shifted in her nightclothes and pulled a suffering groan from the back of her throat, only magnifying the tension. If she could quickly rub it out, then sleep would immediately follow, and she would find a way to talk to Genya about this tomorrow morning over tea and pastries.

On second thought, maybe something stronger would make the discussion more comfortable. At least then, Genya would attribute the flush from the _kvas_ to Alina’s deep blush.

She snuck a hand between the mattress and her body, sliding it over her stomach, cupping the apex of her thighs in her palm. The anticipation soared with the pressure of her palm against her, and it was not without some trepidation that Alina tested the pad of her middle finger over her clit. The first touch was always exquisite, and from there, everything became carnal instinct. Trying to slow the journey was never an option for her. Perhaps if it was with someone else, she wouldn’t mind the foreplay. It might even be nice, to be touched in different ways by someone else’s hands.

The shiver of the idea took hold and promptly morphed into fantasy. The Darkling’s hands on her, kneading the flesh on the backs of her thighs, squeezing her buttocks, his nose where her finger currently rested. He was a man who would delight in the deliberate unravelling. He would test and tease, working out the precise angle of his tongue on her cunt until she fell apart underneath him. 

The mattress was becoming damp from her own hot, open-mouthed panting. Two fingers pressed into her clit, pushing a button over and over, expecting different results. It worked enough to make her wet and easy to push in one, two fingers with no further preamble. She pumped her fingers fast and hard, holding her breath to hear the vulgar sounds that seemed to echo around the room. 

Absentmindedly, her other hand found its way to the collar. Her thumb pricked the tip of an antler, and the sensation was sharp though the point was dull. 

On her other hand, her thumb had swiped along her clit as her fingers continued dragging through the slick of her cunt. 

“Fuck,” she whimpered into the pillow, but the sound evolved into a hum and then a moan as she repeated the movement again. Again.

Her nipples chaffed against the gauzy fabric of her nightdress, but she had no additional hands to spare the extra attention. And then her hips undulated into her hand as she picked up speed, shifting her breasts on the mattress with a delicious friction that almost scratched the itch. Even the almost of it was erotic.

Alina threw her head back for a deep breath. The ends of her hair tickled across the round plump of her backside, now lewdly exposed to the air that had chilled considerably despite the heat radiating from her. It was then that she caught the figure hovering in the corner behind her. He was mesmerized by the sight of her, and a bolting thrill shot through her nerves as she saw herself in his eyes. Wanton and keening on display for him. Fucking herself thinking about him. 

There was movement in him this time. Normally he stood stock still and intense, but this time she noticed there was a shift in his posture that when she focused on the shadows, turning her head to look more closely--ah, yes. There it was.

Her mind must have supplied him in a state of dressdown similar to hers, for she had never seen him outside of his _kefta_ , and yet her dreamlike Darkling appeared to her sleep trousers. She couldn’t linger on the detail, however, because it was the bulge in said trousers that caught her attention in the first place. The Darkling’s hand was wrapped over--no _around_ something. Something thick and elongated that cut an impressive outline in the grey fabric. 

“Oh,” she panted, “my…”

The response from him was a resounding grunt opened up into a gasp. “Don’t stop,” he instructed.

She couldn’t even if she wanted to. Alina’s eyes were torn between his, the fire in them that could smolder her, and with how close she was in this moment, the whole palace could burn and she would not stop the furious pace of her fingers. But his hands were just as mesmerizing. One curled into a fist at his side, white-knuckled to ease the twitching of his fingers she had noticed, and the other harshly stroking himself. 

The first wave was a shudder, fleeting and tenuous but promising.

“Draw your knees up.”

He had never engaged with her like this before. Always watching and waiting for her to come, disappearing once she opened her eyes and caught her breath. She did as he asked, however, pulling her knees up to her sides and relishing the way his eyes seemed to grow darker at her exposure. In this position, she was sure he could see how her hand was working her cunt without grace or finesse. She might have thought to put on a show for him, tease it out longer, but what was the point? From the looks of him, he was moments away from combusting, too.

The new angle afforded a second wave of pleasure, immediately followed by the third rippling through her without warning. The series of noises smothered by her pillow were incoherent and varying octaves as she dragged her fingers out of her and bestowed all of the stimulation against her clit in small, tight circles. Her orgasm was spectacular, brilliant and blinding in the proudest display of her power. It was uninhibited release.

Panting, Alina sat up on trembling knees and pulled her hand away from her center. The light dimmed around her until the glow concentrated in her hands. It was instinct that told her to touch the antlers sitting at the base of her throat, the collar that connected her to him in a way no one else had ever been. His eyes flashed then, staring intently at the way Alina threaded the points of her collar between her sticky fingers. Her lips parted as his did, but no sound was made as he so exquisitely came undone before her. She had not seen anything like it, the pleasure that lit up even the darkest parts of him. 

The next morning, Alina left her room feeling more well-rested than she had remembered being in a long time. Genya was not sent to her room for breakfast, and it was just as well. She still didn’t know where to begin describing the thing that was happening to her. 

Alina was running late; the hallways long-emptied of other Grisha who were well into their lessons or work for the day. It was therefore a cruel act of the saints that the Darkling would come strolling down the corridor just as she stepped into it. She paused at her door, bowing her head deferentially. He was, of course, in his normal wardrobe of a black kefta, but as her eyes swept downward, she couldn’t help the memory of his grey sleep trousers and the mess he made in them. Her blush deepened, but then, he must be accustomed to this from the other Grisha who simpered in her presence. It annoyed her to no end that she was now among them, no thanks to her stupid, horny brain.

“Alina,” he said in greeting. His voice was low and full of...something. It was the knowing tone that brought her eyes up, frozen in panic. Had she been caught somehow? Was she too loud last night?

The Darkling dipped his head low, as if to kiss her cheek, but his lips brushed down to her jaw and hovered over her collar. Her heart rate jumped, beating wildly against her chest and sending puffs of hot air against his ear. Curiously, his shoulders rose and a breath sounded with a deep inhale through his nose. Alina’s knees felt like they were going to give out if not for the door at her back to steady her. 

But when his lips moved closer to her neck, when his tongue darted out and the tip made contact with one of the points, when she _felt_ him licking the very same points her wet fingers touched last night, there was not a force strong enough to keep her from collapsing into his waiting arms.


End file.
